imperfect crime
by embracethestrange96
Summary: in a building set to be torn down, the SVU finds nine girls chained in an out of order bathroom. 7 die; 2 survive. and one is blind. with little evidence, and only 1 eyewitness, will SVU be able to crack the case with the return of some old faces? PLZ R
1. chapter i: the victims

_**IMPERFECT CRIME**__  
_

_**in the criminal justice system;**_

_**sexually based offenses are considered especially heinous.**_

_**in New York City;**_

_**the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies  
**_

_**are part of an elite squad known as  
**_

_**the Special Victim's Unit.**_

_**these are their stories. **_

**part i: victims**

"Alright you guys. Let's tear this sonofabitch down quickly; I'm pickin' up my daughter from her aunt's tonight!" The Union manager barked at his employees. "Let's go, go, go!"

The group groaned as a whole, and a few turned into the old cafe to check to make sure no one was hiding out inside. "Dammit...stupid overtime. Ya know?" The Union worker rolled his eyes, dropping an old napkin dispenser to the cracked tile. "I can't wait 'till this place is rubble on the ground, ya know?"

"Yeah, I'm with ya." His partner grunted. "I'll tell ya what; I gotta take a piss."

"They gots some bathrooms downstairs near the seatin' area. Use one o' them."

"The damn things are probably out of order; septic tanks busted, no runnin' water or the like." His buddy groaned. His friend rolled his eyes.

"Yer an idiot, aren't ya? We're tearing this crap heap to the ground within the hour; no one's gonna care about some piss under the wood, and shit. Get on with it, and hurry up unless ya wanna end up under a pile of rafters with yer dick out."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah...I'm goin'..." The man flung open a door to a flight of old wooden steps leading downstairs into a small hallway with doors shut all over. He came upon a door, with a men's restroom sign and a big poster board with the words 'OUT OF ORDER' written in bold, black marker. "Son of a...yo, Mike! Damn thing says out of order!"

"Son of a bitch, Al! Bust open the damn door and hurry up with it before I tell the crew to fire up the wrecking ball!" His buddy yelled from up the stairs, voicing his obvious irritation. The man, Al, backed up and rammed the door open.

"_Holy shit!" _He yelled, stumbling back into the doorway. The room was filled with small kids, and teenage girls chained to the wall. A few were slumped over, one was glassy eyed and wide mouthed and flies buzzed around her face, others were awake and moaning. "_Mike! Ray! Get down here! Stop the machines! STOP THE DAMN MACHINES!"_

He gasped for air, running to try and fumble with the knots on ropes binding the girls to a plumbing rod on the ceiling. "HURRY! SOMEBODY!"

"_Al! For Christ's sake-" _The manager stopped dead in his tracks, his mouth dropping in horror. "_Mother of God! _Someone call 911! Hey; help me untie them!" The men tried breaking the bar as others ran to stop the charging up of the demolition equipment.

"Help...me..." One girl managed, as the shrieking of ambulances was heard down the street; and breaking with a guttural sound of plastic on the road as EMTs stormed the hallway.

"Move! _Move!" _One of the women dropped to her knees, wiping blood off the chin of a girl with red hair. "Sweetheart! Can you hear me?" She had to slap her, for her eyes to crack open. "_Can you hear me?" _

"Mel, check out these pill bottles!" A man called from the sink. "They're all hopped up on downers! We need to get a stomach pump!"

"Radio in to the one-six; SVU!" The woman yelled, shaking the redhead frantically. "Do it now; before we lose 'em all!"

* * *

A few minutes later, the old cafe was surrounded by a group of people. Detectives Olivia Benson and John Munch parked a block down the street. "Why the hell are there so many _people_?" Munch groaned. "Some illegal kid trafficking ring gets discovered in the basement of an old restaurant; now, everyone and their brother comes out to catch a glance."

"Everyone back away!" Olivia yelled, flashing her badge. "This is a crime scene; so, unless you all want to be hauled in for questioning I suggest if you don't have a badge or clearance you get away!" People scuttled away from the scene, and Olivia barged forward to the door. "What do we got?"

"Nine girls chained to a plumbing pipe in a bathroom that was labeled to be out of order." A forensics expert from CSU explained, simply. "One was already dead, another died of a heart attack when we came on the scene, three were killed from the massive amount of pills forced down their throats, and one is on her deathbed at the hospital out of an infection that's spread to all of her vital organs."

"That leaves...three survivors?"

"Two, unless you're counting the poor girl trapped in an indefinite coma. They think she might go completely brain dead within the month, but it's too early to tell."

"What the-how in the hell can they're only be two survivors out of a group of nine total victims!" Munch demanded, exchanging a frantic look with Olivia, who just shrugged hopelessly. "Well, out of those two girls, do we at least have them stablizied?"

"They're both stable," The EMT reassured, checking a pad of paper in her hand. "There is...a redheaded thirteen year old, and a blonde, blind fifteen year old-"

"Wait, just a minute!" Munch snapped. "We've got a blind victim? This is crap; we won't be able to get a lot from her. Maybe; but that's only when trying to identifying a perp!"

"You're going to have to work with it." The lady from CSU told them, grimly. "Because, right now, this is the closet to a lead that you're going to get."

**St. Mary's Pediatric Clinic**

**Manhattan, New York, NY**

**Wednesday, 1:17 P.M.**

"Hey there. Hi? Sweetheart, can you hear me?" Olivia was standing next to the bed of a very bruised and beat up red headed girl. She avoided their eyes, her eyes flickering over the wrinkles on the sheets. "I'm Olivia. I'm a police officer. This is my friend, Nick. Can we speak to you for a minute, honey?"

"She's really shy." A voice said. Olivia turned, to see a blonde holding a can of Coca-Cola in her hands, with a straw. She leaned forward, and moved her face for a fumbling minute and dragging a long sip from the can. "I'm sorry; I'm unusually dehydrated. That's Poppy. She doesn't like talking to strangers." Poppy looked into her lap, eyes unblinking. "It's a learned trait."

"And what's your name, sweetheart?" Olivia said, sitting on the edge of the blonde's bed, and gripping her hand tightly. The girl squeezed back gently, and sighed.

"Amber." She whispered. "I'm sorry I'm not much help to the investigation...with my...impairment." She shifted her hands uncomfortably. "It sucks. Please, though, let me know if there's _anything_ that I can do to help you out. Really." Olivia sighed, looking over at Poppy's bed.

"Well, Amber, right now...we really need to try to get through to Poppy. This is a very careful case, and I want to help her, and you. But, without her help; I can't do that. Is there anyway you think I can be able to talk to her?" Amber frowned, and raised a hand to move her hair in thought.

At long last, she lowered her hand. "I'm sorry, Detective." She apologized. "But, Poppy's a very complex personality. She's going to have to get to know you a little better first. Although, she always used to tell us about her father...but- actually I don't think it's wise to go there."

"What happened with her father?" Olivia whispered, squeezing Amber's hand with warmth.

"Poppy's parents were very unhappy." Amber summarized, softly so Poppy didn't hear. "They...they weren't in to each other a lot. Actually, word on the street from one of the older girls who knew Poppy before we were thrown together that Poppy is a product of a rape. But, she stayed with the guy."

"Do you know why?" Olivia asked, already seeing an opening.

"Sorry." She apologized. "But, Jess always said that her dad was crap to the both of them. They lived in a horrible apartment in Brooklyn, and her father constantly was bringing home women to sleep with while Poppy wailed in her crib. Jess snuck in through the fire escape to make sure she didn't starve, and Poppy's mother hated her. So, it seemed at least. Jess moved into the city, and that's all we know. She doesn't talk about it much. All I know is she ended up in foster care when she was ten, and that's when she was abducted into the circle."

"Detective?" A nurse interrupted swiftly. "I'm sorry, but we need Amber. She has to have a-"

"Don't apologize." Olivia smiled, patting Amber's hand. "Just take good care of her." The nurse smiled, and wheeled the bed out of the room. Olivia sat down next to Poppy, who immediately flopped a curtain of red hair in front of her face. "Poppy is a very pretty name." She smiled, softly. "Did your mother give it to you?"

Poppy nodded quickly, an almost subtle jerk of her head. "Well. She must have thought it out very carefully. It's very pretty." She shrugged, and sighed heavily. Olivia sighed too, and leaned forward on her elbows. "What do you like to do for fun, Poppy? Do you have any favorite movies? Board games?"

Silence. Olivia sighed, and looked at Amaro in exasperation. "I like to play chess." A small voice whispered. Two pairs of eyes snapped over in Poppy's direction, seeing two bright emerald eyes sparkle behind a veil of fiery hair. "Daddy used to play it with me. When he wasn't in his angry mode." She added, forlorn.

"Alright! Sounds like fun already!" Olivia smiled, brightly. "Nick, do you want to grab a chess set? I'll be on Poppy's team."

A half hour later, Poppy was sitting straight up against her pillows, face in a small smile with a mug of hot chocolate. "Checkmate." She whispered, knocking over the queen.

"Damn, you're good at this." Amaro groaned, but he was smiling. Poppy giggled, as Olivia played with her hair. She laid her head on Olivia's chest, and looked into her eyes.

"Do you have any daughters, Olivia?" She asked, voice a butterfly whisper. Olivia shook her head sadly.

"I don't have any children, honey." She smiled, sadly. "I've always wanted to adopt, but...the timing was never right." Poppy frowned, and looked down at the white tile.

"Can't you have your own baby?" She squeaked. "Like Angie did?"

"Who's Angie, baby?"

"My mommy." She boasted. "She didn't like paying me a lot of attention, but she had a baby one time. But..." She trailed off, her eyes darkening. "She had a baby one time." Poppy repeated, firmly. Olivia shrugged.

"I haven't found someone I want to be my baby's Daddy." She admitted. "I don't want him being a jerk, you know?" She tickled Poppy, who giggled uncontrollably. Finally, she laid across Olivia's lap, grinning and looking up into her face.

"Olivia, what's a 'whore'?" She asked, softly. She raised an eyebrow, and adjusted the girl to sit in her lap. "Daddy called me that one time, but he didn't tell me what it meant. He drank his angry juice, and he'd start throwing stuff. And he yelled 'you little whore!' and smacked me. I started acrying, but he told me he couldn't hit Angie because she was gonna have a baby, and he didn't want it to be messed up like me."

"When did this happen, Poppy?" Poppy shrugged, playing with Olivia's necklace. "Honey, this might be important. Listen to me, baby." She took her face in her hand's and turned her face back to face her. "Don't you worry about what a whore is, sweetie. That's not you; he must have mistaken you for somebody else." She insisted, smoothing her hair.

"I'm messed up." Poppy muttered, and her bottom lip quivered. "That's what Daddy said-he was yelling at the lady and she kept screaming how he ruined her life, and Angie told them to shut up because CSI was on."

"There was another lady living with you?" Olivia asked.

"My daddy likes hanging out with girls." Poppy stated, matter of factly. "This lady was a little bit younger than Angie, though. She had dark, dark red hair...and Daddy said it was his sister. She liked hugging me, and helping me out. She felt like more of a mommy than Angie."

"And what happened to them all?"

"Daddy got mad." She whispered, sadly. "So, they all died."


	2. Note to the Readers

Okay, so here's the deal...

I know some of you readers are anxiously awaiting more chapters ofmy stories, but the truth is that I have no idea how to continue them, and are a dead lost for the rest of the plot line...so until further notice, all my stories are suspended. I don't know if I'll ever pick them back up. I'm really sorry about that. Writers block sucks.


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